


deadbeat summer

by mbwff



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Bottom Jeon Wonwoo, Floor Sex, Friends With Benefits, Heatwave, M/M, Sweat, Top Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mbwff/pseuds/mbwff
Summary: Wonwoo doesn’t say anything when Soonyoung connects their mouths together. Even with the tang of kimchi, his hair stands up on the back of his neck from how tender and sweet the kiss is. It doesn’t feel like the kind of kiss you share with your friend you often end up having sex with.Wonwoo honestly forgets every time that Soonyoung is a person capable of an intense amount of focus and seriousness. It’s not a side of him that Wonwoo tends to bring out, but Soonyoung is Soonyoung and Soonyoung likes being good at things.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 40
Kudos: 173





	deadbeat summer

**Author's Note:**

> ty jwaz for reading this over. soonwoo are in love even if they themselves do not know it yet. title is from... deadbeat summer by neon indian

Wonwoo’s phone buzzes violently from under his sweaty, sticky bare thigh. He knows by the custom vibration that Soonyoung is booty calling him.

He picks up.

“Yo,” Soonyoung says, obviously trying to be casual and fucking it up. “You doin’ anything?”

“Melting,” Wonwoo replies.

“Truuuuu,” Soonyoung says. “It's making me feel crazy. My mouth is, like, sweating.”

“That’s drool, you always drool,” Wonwoo replies. He rucks up his tank top with his free hand to scratch at his stomach.

“Can I come drool on your dick, then?” Soonyoung says, no preamble.

“Ew.” Wonwoo replies. “Yeah, shower first.”

By the time Soonyoung hits the buzzer for Wonwoo’s apartment, he’s dozed off on the couch. The buzzer wakes him up violently from the worst kind of nap, and to his dismay, he’s coated in a layer of sweat and grime.

He buzzes Soonyoung in before he even has a chance to collect himself, hair greasy and askew and every single pore on his body absolutely clogged. Wonwoo goes over to the kitchen sink and puts his head under the faucet to at least wake him up a little.

There’s a knock at the door and Wonwoo pulls it open to reveal Soonyoung, leaning against the doorframe with sopping wet hair, a huge damp mark on his grey t-shirt, and an Adidas gym bag. He arches an eyebrow at Wonwoo.

“Ayo ayo,” Soonyoung drawls.

“Moving in?” Wonwoo asks.

“I brought kimchi,” Soonyoung says, slapping the bag hanging off his shoulder.

“You know I have kimchi,” Wonwoo says. “What’s wrong with mine?”

“This one is fizzy,” Soonyoung says, pushing past Wonwoo into the apartment and kicking off his slides. He cracks his neck loudly and turns with his hands on his hips, studying Wonwoo closely.

“If this is how you plan to seduce me, I don’t know if you’re doing a very good job,” Wonwoo says, shriveling a little under Soonyoung’s intense gaze.

“We can just hang out, dude, we don’t have to do anything.”

“No, I mean,” Wonwoo says. “I thought you were gonna drool on me.”

“Offer stands,” Soonyoung says with a huge grin, and then he just rips off his shirt and throws it on the floor. “Lemme just fuel up a little.”

He plops down on the kitchen floor and unzips the bag to pull out a jar packed to the brim with bright red kimchi. Wonwoo watches with mild trepidation as Soonyoung cracks the seal on the lid and they’re both silent for a second as a loud hissing noise emits from the container.

“Ooh, that’s how you know it’s good,” Soonyoung says, breathing in deep before just digging two fingers into the mouth of the jar and rooting around for a sufficiently crunchy piece of cabbage.

“You are, as always, truly incomprehensible,” Wonwoo remarks. He kneels next to Soonyoung to watch him chew with his mouth open, then slumps onto his side so he can feel the cool plastic tile of the floor pressed right up against his cheek. From his vantage point, Soonyoung wiggles a little as he eats, cheeks so puffed out with food that Wonwoo can’t see his eyes. His smooth pale belly folds in on itself as he hunches over the jar held between his bare feet. “This is your best angle,” Wonwoo says.

Honestly, it’s really hard sometimes for Wonwoo to stop looking at Soonyoung’s mouth. The shape is so interesting, and if Wonwoo was a more poetic person he would compare it to a bowstring or the ocean or the smell of flowers or something, but he’s a simple person, so Soonyoung’s ruddy lips just make him ache with something words can’t seem to soothe.

Soonyoung licks his fingers– _gulp–_ and then runs them through Wonwoo’s wet hair. “Can I top this time?” he asks hopefully. Wonwoo bats away his gross spitty fingers and scowls at him.

“If you put your kimchi fingers in my ass I’ll actually kill you,” Wonwoo replies. “Then I’ll kill myself.”

“Geez,” Soonyoung says. “Just asking. I’m not sure how much more my bussy can take, honestly.”

“Please,” Wonwoo whispers, his cheekbone grinding into the floor. “Please call it anything else.”

“What,” Soonyoung says through a mouthful, “You want me to be all romantic about it? My uh–my love chamber? My prostate fortress? My secret tunnel?”

“Ass is fine,” Wonwoo says. Then he snorts. “Prostate fortress is pretty good though.”

“Right? Off the dome,” Soonyoung says, tapping his temple. Wonwoo slides over on the floor until his head is pushed up against Soonyoung’s thigh. “God, you’re such a fucking cat. Just say you want me to pet you,” Soonyoung says, threading his dirty fingers through Wonwoo’s hair. Wonwoo snorts again and doesn’t fight it this time.

“Hey, did I show you this baby picture of Seungkwan that Chan sent me?” Soonyoung says. He lies straight back on the floor with a groan, so Wonwoo’s head is close to his hip. He rummages around in his pocket for a second before pulling out his old Android and tapping the screen violently.

“You know you don’t have to press that hard, like, for your phone to know what you want it to do, right?” Wonwoo says.

Soonyoung shoves his phone in Wonwoo’s face with the screen angled all wrong.

“I can’t see,” Wonwoo says, trying to grab Soonyoung’s phone out of his hand.

“That’s because you’re blind,” Soonyoung retorts, pulling his phone back from Wonwoo’s grip. Wonwoo’s hand feels greasy.

With a groan that’s maybe a little more dramatic than how he feels, Wonwoo rolls over and puts his sharp chin right under Soonyoung’s belly button, laying his arm across Soonyoung’s hips.

“You know, this angle is even better,” Wonwoo says, looking at Soonyoung from behind the triple mounds of his round cheeks and chin. “You look like a mountain range.”

“Aw, thanks. Here,” Soonyoung says as he turns the phone around for Wonwoo to see. Sure enough, the photo of Seungkwan is funny enough to draw a brief chuckle out of Wonwoo, one that sends his chin further into the dough of Soonyoung’s stomach.

“That’s it? When I saw this I laughed so hard I threw up,” Soonyoung complains.

“It’s too hot to laugh,” Wonwoo replies. “And you always throw up.”

“Feels so good after,” Soonyoung sighs.

Wonwoo feels a sudden, terrifyingly tender urge to nuzzle his nose into Soonyoung’s soft stomach. He has to tamp it down before it wells up in his throat.

“You’re gross,” he says instead, but with the same saccharine intonation that he would use to say _“I love you.”_

“You wanna say that to my face?” Soonyoung retorts. He somehow slides down so that Wonwoo’s head falls back onto the floor with a dull thud that makes him hiss. When Wonwoo opens his eyes again Soonyoung’s face is centimeters away from his.

“You’re gross,” Wonwoo repeats. “And your breath smells sour.”

Soonyoung smiles. “Bet my spit tastes crazy.”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything when Soonyoung connects their mouths together. Even with the tang of kimchi, his hair stands up on the back of his neck from how tender and sweet the kiss is. It doesn’t feel like the kind of kiss you share with your friend you often end up having sex with. Wonwoo honestly forgets every time that Soonyoung is a person capable of an intense amount of focus and seriousness. It’s not a side of him that Wonwoo tends to bring out, but Soonyoung is Soonyoung and Soonyoung likes being good at things.

Soonyoung licks into his mouth and, _fuck_ , it really tastes sour on his tongue. Wonwoo wants to pull back, to rinse his mouth, to berate Soonyoung for being so fucking weird, but then Soonyoung’s hand curves over the sharp jut of his hipbone under his shirt and Wonwoo stops tasting anything but skin and spit and soft lips.

“You wanna fuck on the floor?” Soonyoung whispers against Wonwoo’s lips. It shouldn’t make Wonwoo feel crazy, but it does. He finds himself rocking into Soonyoung’s warm body even with the sweltering heat. He thinks he might be sweating too much, his skin sliding against the tile of his floor and Soonyoung’s knee pressed up against him.

Wonwoo feels lazy, liquid, just melting on the floor as Soonyoung sucks his lower lip into his mouth. He’s really doing all the work, feet scrabbling on the linoleum tile for purchase as he pushes himself insistently against Wonwoo.

Soonyoung brings his hand up from Wonwoo’s hip and wraps it around his neck, thumb hot and heavy against his Adam's apple. He can’t tell if Soonyoung’s doing a bit or really trying to choke him out but either way it does it for Wonwoo because suddenly his hips jump into Soonyoung’s thigh, searching for pressure.

“Hot,” Soonyoung breathes into his mouth. It tastes foul.

“Are we actually gonna fuck on the floor?” Wonwoo says. His hands are shaking where they’re sealed onto Soonyoung’s sweaty back. “I’m not _not_ down but–”

Soonyoung’s grip on his throat tightens. “You wanna go anywhere, Wonu-yah?” He all but growls.

Wonwoo snorts. “Are you trying to sound sexy?”

“This is my top voice,” Soonyoung says, mouthing at Wonwoo’s jaw. Goosebumps.

“Kimchi– fuck– kimchi fingers,” Wonwoo tries to say as Soonyoung bites the soft, sweaty skin right under Wonwoo’s chin and he groans.

“Get them clean, then,” Soonyoung says, and then he sticks his salty, acidic fingers in Wonwoo’s mouth, pushing them far enough in for Wonwoo to gag a little.

Wonwoo is about to spit them out and kick Soonyoung in the knee, but Soonyoung is looking at him with these intense, narrow eyes and Wonwoo decides that whatever happens after, it’s worth it in the moment to run his tongue over Soonyoung’s fingers just to stay under the weight of his gaze.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung hisses. “I didn’t think you’d do it.”

Wonwoo holds defiant eye contact with Soonyoung as he carefully sucks on Soonyoung’s fingers, opening his mouth wide to show Soonyoung how his tongue swirls around each finger even as drool escapes from his mouth and runs down his neck.

“Oh fuck,” Soonyoung says. “I’ll pay you to let me fuck you, I’m pulling my phone out right now, fuck–”

He rolls onto his back and rummages around in the pocket of his basketball shorts, dick hard and flopping around pathetically. Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

“You think I’m that cheap?” Wonwoo says, deadpan even as his heart thunders in his chest.

“It’s all I have,” Soonyoung whines. “Take it, it’s yours, just–please, I’ll do anything.”

“What’s your deal?” Wonwoo asks.

Soonyoung writhes a little. “I’m feelin’ all antsy,” he says. “I wanna like, plunder you. You don’t even have to do anything, I would do all the work, please?”

Wonwoo considers it. His heart is still beating wildly and his skin is still sticking to the floor and he feels a buzzing in his fingertips when he imagines just rolling over and letting Soonyoung do whatever he wants to him.

“Okay,” he says, pinching Soonyoung’s nipple. “But I’m seriously not moving.”

Soonyoung rises to his knees with a thunderous roar that makes Wonwoo’s boner shrivel up with secondhand embarrassment.

“Nevermind,” Wonwoo groans, rolling over onto his stomach. “Go home.”

The floor doesn’t even feel cool anymore against Wonwoo’s cheek and his glasses are digging into his nose, but then he feels Soonyoung straddle his thighs and two warm hands come up to massage his back. He can feel Soonyoung hot and hard behind him, hands digging into Wonwoo’s muscles. Soonyoung shifts so he’s flat on top of Wonwoo, cock digging into the cleft of his ass and weight pushing on his lungs until it’s hard to breathe.

He starts to grind into Wonwoo, screwing his hips up with his face buried in between Wonwoo’s shoulder blades. The feel of his breath, hot even through his shirt, makes Wonwoo’s stomach clench. He inhales deeply and Wonwoo can feel his chest expanding against him, can feel his belly bow out into the dip of his lower back, until it feels like they’re locked together. It gives him chills, creeping from the back of his neck to the tops of his shoulders as Soonyoung rocks against him, breathing deep like he’s meditating.

Wonwoo’s cock grinds into the linoleum of his kitchen floor, hard even through his shorts.

“C’mon,” Wonwoo almost whines.

Soonyoung lets out a little huff and sits up, digging his hands under Wonwoo’s shirt and trying to tug it off.

Wonwoo feels this ugly, desperate heat climb up his spine as Soonyoung’s hands push rough into his skin.

“Ah, I got it, I got it,” Wonwoo grunts, contorting himself until he can pull his shirt over his head. At the same time, Soonyoung pulls down Wonwoo’s shorts until they’re just below the bottom of his ass.

“You’re so bony, it’s crazy,” Soonyoung says, squeezing what little fat there is on Wonwoo’s ass. He squeaks, only a little, as Soonyoung’s touch exposes him to the humid air.

The honest truth is Wonwoo doesn’t bottom a lot because the noises he makes are really embarrassing, but they seem to drive Soonyoung absolutely feral.

This time is no different, because as soon as Wonwoo lets a little noise escape from his mouth, Soonyoung’s desperation seems to ratchet up to a ten, wet fingers all over Wonwoo trying to pull more soft sounds out of him. Wonwoo turns his head to the side, cheek flat on the floor, and strains his eyes to see Soonyoung tearing open a little packet of lube with his teeth, chest flushed.

“We really are gonna fuck on the floor, huh?” Wonwoo tries to say without gasping as Soonyoung dribbles the cold lube all over Wonwoo. “Ah–you missed, asshole.”

Soonyoung just murmurs something Wonwoo can’t hear and runs his fingers through the puddle of slick, pushing it into Wonwoo without any preamble. Wonwoo’s back tries to arch even under Soonyoung’s weight as he feels a finger press in, twisting inside him. His skin feels like it’s flaying off, or like he’s being torn apart at the seams. He wants to come outside of his body, wants Soonyoung to push his face into the floor and let him suffocate.

“God,” Soonyoung grunts, his other hand splayed over Wonwoo’s hip. “You’re so tight.”

“How–fuck–how original,” Wonwoo says. Soonyoung puts another finger in and spreads him out. They both moan, Wonwoo for obvious reasons and Soonyoung in abject frustration.

“I hate waiting, I wish you just had a pussy,” Soonyoung whines, mashing his fingers into Wonwoo impatiently.

“Jesus, you can’t just say shit like that,” Wonwoo hisses, sliding his arms across the floor until he feels like he’s trying to reach out and crawl away from the feeling of Soonyoung’s fingers inside him. It never gets less intense, the fullness, only more familiar. In a way, Wonwoo dreads it because there’s nothing he can do about the way his body wants to writhe and pant and howl when he’s being fucked.

Soonyoung knows all too well and Wonwoo can read it in the way his fingers search inside him, stroking his insides soft and insistent.

They’re both breathing heavy, bodies rocking back and forth together like they tend to do when they want to be together. Wonwoo feels so sensitive to it all that it’s like he can feel the ridges of Soonyoung’s fingerprints inside him, like his heartbeat is doing double time to match the body behind him.

Soonyoung adds a third finger and Wonwoo keens, this high noise lodged in his throat that comes out without his permission. His face burns with embarrassment but his feet kick out behind Soonyoung like he’s being electrocuted.

Soonyoung holds on, one hand smoothing down his lower back as the other works him open.

Wonwoo can feel his hands shaking. He just wants something to happen so bad. He feels like he’ll go crazy stuck in this half-burning place forever as his cock grinds into the floor and Soonyoung screws his fingers in harder, looking to make Wonwoo give him an inch.

“Ready, ready,” Wonwoo grunts out, and no sooner have the words left his mouth then Soonyoung removes his fingers, wet lines from them trailing down Wonwoo’s thighs. Soonyoung leans up on his knees and tries to pull his shorts down, fumbling the waistband. When he finally gets his cock free he lets out a depraved moan.

“Condom?” Soonyoung asks. By this point he’s panting, his skin shiny with sweat and his weight fully on top of Wonwoo. “It’s in my bag can you get it, please, please–“ his voice cracks.

Wonwoo gives out a grunt and stretches out his hand for the bag, dragging it towards them and rifling through the outer pocket while Soonyoung palms himself. He sounds fully desperate now, worse than over the phone. He sounds like he’ll die if he doesn’t get inside Wonwoo fast and Wonwoo feels it too.

Wonwoo fishes out a condom with numb, shaky hands and tosses it to Soonyoung, then collapses back onto the floor. He can feel himself sticking to the linoleum from the sweat but he doesn’t care, can’t really care about much of anything at all when Soonyoung is behind him, on top of him, around him.

Soonyoung rolls the condom on with a shiver and taps the head of his dick against Wonwoo’s ass.

“You want this dick, Wonu-yah?” he says.

“Shut up,” Wonwoo grunts. How Soonyoung has the restraint to tease him right now Wonwoo doesn’t know. It’s annoying and Wonwoo arches into it anyway, feeling like a cat in heat.

When Soonyoung presses into him, just the head, they both hold their breath. Wonwoo can’t move even a millimeter, body tense and waiting for the stretch to come. Soonyoung shivers and shakes a little behind him again, and then he snaps his hips forward without any warning, pushing his cock halfway in with a little squish.

Wonwoo cries out, his voice cracking at the top. It’s overwhelming every time, being full. It’s almost too much, and his hands claw into the floor again as Soonyoung rolls his hips up again and fucks deeper into him.

Soonyoung leans forward with a little “ _Ah_ ,” and pushes his palms down Wonwoo’s forearms, until he’s almost completely flat on top of him with their fingers laced together, Soonyoung’s palms pushing Wonwoo’s into the wet floor.

It’s only then that Soonyoung finally starts thrusting for real, his nose buried in Wonwoo’s neck and his breath heavy on his skin. Wonwoo keens. He feels like he’s going to die, pressed heavy into the squeaky, sweaty kitchen floor with Soonyoung looming over him.

“You’re shaking, baby,” Soonyoung pants into his ear. Wonwoo can feel his sweat dripping onto his shoulder, running down his neck.

“Ugh,” Wonwoo grunts, incoherent but disapproving. “Annoying.”

Soonyoung bites the muscle between his neck and shoulder and the pain runs parallel to the pleasure and Wonwoo _yelps,_ body jolting under Soonyoung’s weight.

The longer Soonyoung fucks him, the harder his thrusts get, the farther Wonwoo feels like he gets from himself. Even if his eyes are open, he can’t tell. Everything looks blurry and dark to him, all his energy concentrated on just feeling. He’s feeling so much, overwhelmed by every small touch and drop of sweat and slide of skin on skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Soonyoung chants under his breath, his hips keeping up whatever rhythm he has in his head. It jostles Wonwoo’s bones, until he feels loose all over, his whole body limp with the force of Soonyoung’s hips and the way his cock drags inside of him, sparking like flint. He whimpers and feels his face heat up even more.

Suddenly urgency flows into every crack left in him, every space not full of Soonyoung smell and touch and force and he needs to see him, then. He turns his head enough to look behind him, muscles in his neck straining as his eyes struggle to focus.

His eyes finally catch Soonyoung’s face, on the intense expression in his eyes, and then Soonyoung’s mouth goes slack and his brow furrows.

“Ah, fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” Soonyoung groans. His words shoot right through Wonwoo.

“Then come,” Wonwoo huffs out. His eyes search for Soonyoung’s, hard as it is. “Come in me, like you wanted to, like you said.”

It seems to be all that Soonyoung needed to hear, because his hips falter and he fucks Wonwoo selfishly, hands too rough and thrusts too hard until with a soft cry, he spills inside of him.

Wonwoo can feel his hands shaking again, coming back into his body as Soonyoung slows behind him, and then he feels soft hands on his waist and the awkward, slippery feeling of Soonyoung leaving his body but despite the tranquil air surrounding Soonyoung, Wonwoo still feels feverish.

“I need–” He tries to say anything coherent at all, fingers curling into his palms. “Can you–”

“On the couch,” Soonyoung gasps, “My knees hurt, get on the couch.”

Thank god. Wonwoo and Soonyoung sort of slide together over to Wonwoo’s pathetic little futon, the two of them crawling on their hands and knees instead of standing up. Wonwoo feels disgusting, deprived in a way he did not expect to be feeling today.

Soonyoung clambers up onto the futon with a grunt and then holds out a hand expectantly to Wonwoo. “Gonna suck you off now, Wonwoo-yah.”

Wonwoo takes his hand and is hauled up onto the couch, where Soonyoung somehow still has the energy to rearrange his limbs until he’s lying on his stomach in between Wonwoo’s spread legs.

This is the first time Wonwoo has seen Soonyoung’s face in about twenty minutes, so seeing him looking equal parts overheated and fucked-out is overwhelming. He can feel his stomach clench and in turn his cock jumps against his lower belly. It’s not lost on Soonyoung, the red burn on the tips of his ears blending into a ruddy blush on his neck and chest. There’s a sheen of sweat on the top of his lip and he looks fucking exhausted. Wonwoo can only imagine what twenty minutes on the floor did to him. He doesn’t think he’s taken a full breath since Soonyoung pushed inside of him.

True to his word, Soonyoung shoots Wonwoo a shaky smile and curls his fingers around the base of Wonwoo’s cock. He lets a string of drool trail out from between parted lips and it streams down onto Wonwoo. It’s disgusting, definitely, totally, but Wonwoo’s back arches up as Soonyoung does it again, getting him wet.

He starts to stroke Wonwoo, fist moving slowly up and down his shaft. Slow as it is, Wonwoo’s hips lift into his touch and his hands find their way into Soonyoung’s wet hair. He can feel where his skin and Soonyoung’s skin stick together, slick and tacky with sweat and lube and spit. It’s horrible, made even worse when Soonyoung starts to suck and bite at the muscle of Wonwoo’s inner thighs. Wonwoo keens, almost too sensitive for the blunt edge of Soonyoung’s teeth.

“Put it in,” Wonwoo manages to gasp out as Soonyoung’s hand speeds up. He tries to use his hand in Soonyoung’s hair as leverage but Soonyoung lets out a growl and continues digging his face into the space between Wonwoo’s legs, hand still working over him.

Something tight builds deep in Wonwoo’s gut and he knows he’s about to come, just from the tight circle of Soonyoung’s fingers and the sting of his teeth on his thighs. “Gonna–” Wonwoo says, back stuck in an arch. “Please, in your mouth, Soonyoung-ah.”

Finally, Soonyoung drags his mouth up and takes Wonwoo in, lips meeting his fist as the hand in his hair tightens and Wonwoo fucks up into the tightness of his mouth and feels like he can see the veins in his eyelids as he comes hot down Soonyoung’s throat, every exhale coming out as a whine.

Soonyoung makes an ugly little gagging noise, but swallows around Wonwoo’s softening cock and then releases it from his shiny, wet mouth. Soonyoung sticks out his tongue and says, “What have you been eating?”

Wonwoo doesn’t even have the energy to do anything besides drag Soonyoung up to him by the hair and catch his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Neither of them have the energy to make it a good kiss, but the taste of himself in Soonyoung’s mouth feels like more than enough. He sinks back into himself while they kiss lazily. His thighs are sore and his knees hurt and his face from where his glasses dug into his skin. Wonwoo feels sticky and hot and happier now than he was before.

“I want to shower,” Wonwoo whispers in Soonyoung’s ear. “More than anything in the world.”

Soonyoung buries his face into Wonwoo’s neck and lets out a huge groan. “That sounds fucking amazing,” he says. His lips catch on Wonwoo’s skin when he talks. “I wanna come.”

“You actually are going to have to,” Wonwoo replies. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“Ooo,” Soonyoung says. “I fucked you into being dependent on me… my plan is working.”

It doesn’t feel like much of a confession but Wonwoo’s stomach swoops all the same. He wraps his arms around Soonyoung’s neck and decides that maybe, after the shower and another nap, when the sun has set and the world finally feels cool again, he’ll ask Soonyoung what they’re doing. Somehow he’s not scared about it.

They’ll figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @kwontent


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